What If
by AuthorReinvented
Summary: A series of light-hearted "What ifs" for Hetalia. What if America doesn't really need glasses? What if England can make one dish really well? Read to find out!
1. Canada doesn't need glasses?

Something was different with Canada, and France couldn't put his finger on it.

Maybe it was the fact Canada chose to don his Mountie uniform at this month's meeting instead of his usual tan jacket and aviator goggles. Possibly it had something to do with the fact America and Canada were not speaking, although neither would tell France why.

France felt his eyes being drawn to Canada more than usual, and it frustrated him that he couldn't figure it out. Something about the way Canada looked- No, not his appearance - the way his gaze seemed to penetrate, his eyes seeming too sharp, drew France's attention to him. Not just Franc's attention, but England's, and Russia's and every other countries' attention was drawn to him.

England was surprisingly, unnafected, and didn't seem to understand why France was so unnerved. When France had tried to explain to him that Canada's gaze seemed too sharp, England had simply tilted his head quizzical and explained that "Canada has always seen more than he lets on." France was getting frustrated. "But something is off. " He insisted. England hummed in thought for a moment, too distracted to squabble, and then came to a realization.

"Isn't this the first time you've seen him without his glasses?" England pointed out. "He always take them and his goggles off when he argues with America. It really unnerves others when he does that." England's casual observation hit France like a bag of bricks, and he had to blink a few times to catch his bearings. It wasn't like France had never seen Canada without his glasses, but that was only back when Canada was still a tiny colony, before England took him away.

One glance at Canada proved England's theory correct. Without his round glasses to hide behind, his eyes were peircing, assisted by the hard look in his eyes and his tense jaw whenever he heard America's too-loud voice. "Eh? Is Canada wearing contacts?" The answer came from directly behind him and France jumped as America spoke. "Nah, he doesnt need glasses to start with. He just wears them cuz I gave them to him." despite the pout on his face, America spoke a little proudly.

"It was an independence gift." America explained to a shocked France. "The goggles were an apology for the 1812 thing." England clearly already knew this information and, although his face twisted at the word "independence", he scolded America as usual. "I don't know what you did, but go apologise!" America scowled. "Not unless he does first!"

France suddenly felt a cold presence by his side, and Canada spoke up, coldly. "oh, I'm sorry, I apologize for you being an ass." America bristled. "It's not like I did it on purpose!"

"Hockey Sticks don't 'accidently' break!"

"You broke it over my head, because I ate the last of the syrup!"

"That doesn't give you the right to steal my glasses!"

Canada fumed, angrily. America drew short. "Dude, I didn't steal your glasses!" Canada frowned suspiciously. "Well, they were missing this morning." America was frowning too. "I put a pair of mine in their place!" he protested. "There was a crack in them, so I took them to get repaired secretly." His pout was returning. "I wanted it to be a surprise!" Canada looked startled, then, embarrassed. "Im sorry, Eh." He offered tentatively, rubbing his eyes. "I thought you were taking them back and I just-" America caught his brother in a hug. "I didn't mean to scare you." He apologized.

He reached into his pocket and pulled out some glasses wrapped in a handkerchief. "I wanted to give these back to you earlier, but.." He trailed off, and slid the glasses on his brother's face. Canada seemed to transform under the comfort of his glasses, and France watched as his gaze became less intense and his whole body seemed to relax. France ruffled the hair of the now- passive Canada and smiled. "You know," He advised playfully to Canada, "You are très beau wit'out the glasses, but j'aime the Canada with glasses the most." After all, France thought, that's the Canada he knows the best.


	2. America doesn't need glasses?

America stumbled over Prussia's outstretched foot and fell like a log, hitting the ground and rolling. His glasses slipped from his face and clattered to the ground. America sat up quickly, reaching for them, but there was a telltale crunch, and he froze, eyes following the black boot up to the face of the owner, a rather shocked and embarrassed looking Russia.

"Ah, America, I did not see you there." Russia started, taking a step back and shyly pulling the crushed metal frames from the sole of his boot. "Were these your glasses? It was an accident?" "An accident?" England screeched. "You clearly did that on purpose you buffoon!" Before Russia could whip out his favourite metal pipe and use it on England, America let out an anguished wail. "My glasses! " He took the crushed frames from Russia and made a sad noise, like a half-sob.

England looked uneasy, as though he didn't know how to deal with this version of America, but he stepped forward cautiously and layed a comforting hand on America's shoulder. "Now, now, it will be okay. We can get you a new set of glasses." He tried for comforting words, but America only pouted more, looking slightly tearful. "No, I don't want another pair! I love this pair!" He rose to his feet looking rather angry and England faltered. "I don't know that we can fix those, lad." He flinched at America's hard glare and glanced at Japan for help. Japan took one look at the twisted metal frames and shook his head.

"It's impossible to fix them when they are like that!" China broke in, saying the words Japan did not want to say. America was now full on pouting, in a way England recognized from when America was young, usually followed by a tantrum. "You're lying!" He said childishly. "Canada will fix them for me!" A sigh was heard, and for the first time, England noticed the semi-visible country standing on his left. "What? Canada? When did you get here?" Canada muttered something that sounded a little like "I've been here the whole time" but it was drowned out by America's loud cry as he threw himself at Canada.

"Bro!" America whined, clinging to his brother. "My glasses are broken! Will you fix them?" he pitifully held out the crushed remains of the glasses to Canada. Instead of protesting, Canada smiled gently and took the frames, telling America to "wait just a moment." England watched closely to see how Canada would fix America's glasses that weren't much more than trash now. Canada turned his back to America, and from where England was standing, he could clearly see Canada pulling a new pair of glasses out of his glasses case and replacing them with the broken set.

Canada then slipped the glasses case back into his pocket, and then turned brightly to provide America with the replacement. "Here ya go!" Canada announce quietly, but clearly. "They're all fixed!" England sputtered in surprise. "But those aren't even the same -" He stopped himself as the usually gentle Canada sent him a murderous glare. "Eh?" America turned to look at him for a moment, innocently. "Didja say something, England?" England shook his head vehemently. "No, Nothing America, never mind!"

America happily polished his glasses before adding them to his face. "These glasses are special to me." He explained good naturedly. "Canada gave them to me as a personal gift when I went independent. He always repairs them for me." England fliched at the word 'Independent' and his stomach churned. "Come to think of it...I don't recall you ever needing glasses before then..." England noticed. "I guess I'm not the only one who was affected by that fight then." England felt himself puffing up a little with satisfaction at the idea that at least it wasn't just him suffering repercussions from that war.

"Huh? What are you saying, dude?" America asked loudly. "Its not like I need glasses now." He grinned. "I just wear 'em because I wanna!" There was a collective gasp of shock from all the countries present, and England nearly fainted. "You're saying you never needed glasses this whole time?" America' s grin was unaffected. "Well, yeah! And don't you think these glasses make me seem smarter too?" It was a good thing America couldn't see Canada rolling his eyes from behind his back, England managed to think, still feeling rather faint.


	3. England can make one dish really well?

"Ahh, Angleterre, what did you do to the fish?" France moaned mournfully, prodding at the golden brown deep-fried haddock. England bristled. "It's fish and chips! I'll have you know this is America's and Canada's favourite meal I make!" France gave England a pitying look. "It's true!" England snapped. He began to pout a little. "I'll show you." He picked up the phone and dialled America, placing it on speaker. France half heartedly moved to stop him, then decided against it. It would be better for England to to hear for himself directly from tthem, France decided.

"Dude, sup?" America answered the phone loudly. England cleared his throat and threw France a look. "Hello America. It's just that I was making fish and chips for dinner and-" He got cut off by America's thrilled response. "Deep fried fish and French fries?" America interrupted. "Hell yeah! I'll get Canada, we're coming over!" He yelled to someone else in the room, sadly forgetting to take the phone away from his mouth. "Hey Mattie! England made our favourite!" There was a muffled thump, then a desperate grappling sound, and Canada's breathless voice took over. "It is true?" he demanded. "Did you make fish and chips?"

England was practically puffing with pride. "I did, in fact." "Holy maple!" Canada sounded excited. "Fried fish!" America crowed in the background. There was a loud click and the phone hung up. France stared, mouth agape. America, perhaps, but Canada too? England saw Frances face and smirked. Even though he didn't say "I told you so" out loud, he didn't need to, his expression said it for him. France looked at the fried fish with a new look of wonder. Hesitantly, he picked up the fork and knife and cut himself a tiny piece.

England watched closely as France reluctantly placed the fish in his mouth, and Frances eyes widened at the taste. He stated at England in shock. "Angleterre," He said slowly, amazed, "This is not only edible, it is good !" England was so pleased to have his food complemented that he didn't even get offended at the way France said it. France took another bite and savoured the flavour, closing his eyes with pleasure

He was jerked back to reality by America slamming the front door open and barging in, Canada just behind him. England jumped. "How in the bloody hell did you get here so fast?" America carelessly pointing his thumb over his shoulder at Canada and explained "We rode a moose." As though that explained everything. England didn't have a chance to ask more, as America slid into a chair, slapped his hands on the table, and demanded loudly, "England, where my fish and French Fries?"

England muttered to himself "They're chips ." as he began to serve up two more plates, while Canada provided the silverware. Soon, all four countries were seated together, eating happily, and England had never looked more happy, Canada, for once, did not drench his food in maple syrup, and America was eating slowly, savouring his meal instead of gulping it down. France savoured every bite of his fish, although he did not really care for these "chips" or "French fries" as America called them. France gave them a distasteful glance. Those were not French, he thought to himself.

He looked sadly at his plate, realizing that his fish was finished and gone, and sighed, partly from pleasure and partly from sadness that it was gone. "Angleterre," France spoke up, "You should make this for others, it is so good, everyone will love it for sure!" England didn't get the chance to respond, America banged his knife on the table and Canada dropped his and they both demanded "No way!" at the same time.

"England has to make this food only for us!" America demanded. "I don't want to share!" Canada agreed, childishly. They both turned their puppy dog eyes towards England, who sighed, although he was blushing. "It's as you see." He explained, unbothered, to France. "This is a meal I'll only make for family, after all." He rubbed his cheek, looking proud of himself, clearly not realizing he had boldly claimed France to be his family. France took a small bite of a chip to hide his own flush, and thought to himself that this was the best dinner he had ever had.


	4. France is comforted by Canada?

France left the meeting room in a huff, having just lost another argument with England. He tried to remind himself that England had always been this way since France first found him, and simply could not be honest with himself. Even so, France was still upset. He spotted America across the room, and decided to cheer himself up. When the other country turned around at the sound of his footsteps, France draped himself over his shoulders, arms hanging down the other countries back. France tucked his face in the crook of the other country's neck, and almost reached for the soft perky ass, but stopped.

His senses were all telling him the same thing. The gentle feel of the body as the other patted him softly on the back, the quiet way he had accepted France's hug, the scent of maple syrup faintly clinging to his collar, and even the fact he looked like America, all told France one thing. "Mmm, Canada." France murmured to himself, feeling very comfortable. "What's the matter, France?" Canada's voice was sweet and tinged with worry. "Oh, it is nothing." France dismissed his worries. "I am only grateful that I saw you."

France pulled back and looked Canada in the face, taking in the small, natural smile, the violet eyes, full of hope, and the one stray curl Canada could not seem to control. He tucked the curl lovingly behind Canada's ear." J'Taime, mon Cher, J'taime. " Canada flushed at this, and stated at his feet. "Oui." He murmured looking at his feet. "I love you too." He melted into the sudden hug as France pulled himin closer again. "Ah, Canada, you are still as cute as the day I first found you. Never change, mon Cher."

Canada was gently, but forcibly jerked out of France's arms by a strong arms. "Hey, France, you pervert! Don't touch my brother!" "ohhonhon." France twittered, laughing at Canada's bewildered face and America's sharp glare. Somehow, the sharp feeling he had felt before was gone, and he felt calm and happy. He winked at Canada and Canada smiled back. France felt as though maybe, he could face England one more time and come out on top after all. Canada seemed to notice he felt better, and tilted his head, still smiling, and gave France a thumbs up.


	5. Sealand gets a Secret Birthday Present?

Sealand wasn't really expecting anything for his birthday. One of the things about not being officially accepted as a country is the fact none of the other countries can officially send birthday gifts. Although, one time Lithuania has slipped him some chocolate, as a personal gift when he heard it was Sealand's birthday.

Of course, his people would have the usual celebration with drinks and a grand feast, and the ceremonial letter sending, where Sealand would once again submit his request to be recognized as a real country, and all the people would clap and cheer. Every one of his people would speak to him and wish him a happy birthday, as there was a popular belief on the ship that If they spoke to the personification of the country on this day they would have good luck the next year.

Sealand loved his people, even if there numbers were smaller every year. After all, without them sealand wouldn't exist. But, he thought, it was a little lonely. After all, sealand dint grow or change, and was too much like the other countries to be truely accepted by the people. But he was also too much unlike the other countries to be accepted by them. In a way, Sealand was all alone. He had no place with the people and no place with the countries.

That's why he wasn't expecting anything for his birthday. No one would know or care that it was his birthday, since he wasn't a real country. Or at least, that's what Sealand had thought. When he saw the single orange rose and the small glass bottle of syrup of the table, his eyes grew wide as saucers. He thought that maybe there had been a mistake. A gift? For him? But he was Sealand! But the small colourful tag attached to the bottle of syrup clearly proclaimed in elegant writing: Happy Birthday, Sealand!

All of a sudden, Sealand felt like he could easily submit hundred requests to be recognized today. He felt like he had enough energy to great every one of his people cheerfully, like he could- his stomach growled loudly and Sealand eyed the syrup hungrily. He had just anough strength to make breakfast, he decided. So he made pancakes. As they cooked, he gently placed the rose in an empty jar, as he didn't have a vase. He couldn't help but stare at it, and his face kept breaking into a smile.

He wondered just what an orange rose meant. France would know, Sealand thought lazily. France always had roses. He poured the maple syrup of the steaming pile of pancakes, and stuck a single candle into the middle of the stack.

"Happy birthday to me,

Happy birthday to me,

Happy birthday to Sealand,

Happy birthday to me."

He sang softly to himself, and then squeezed his eyes shut and made a wish. "I wish I won't have to be so alone this year." And with that, he leaned forwards and blew out his candle, then eagerly dug into his food. "This is really good!" he said out loud. He began to think that this might be his best birthday ever.


	6. America speaks in an accent when tired?

"America!" Canada hissed, waking the sleeping country. "Wake up! It's your turn!" America snapped awake with a yawn. "Huh?" Canada tutted. "Seriously, stop playing games so late! It's your turn! Go speak!" with gentle hands Canada shoved America to his feet, and America took the podium, still yawning. "thank y'all for waitin" America managed through his yawn. "Ah was up late playin' video games so ahm mighty tired." England tensed up with a look of irritation and Canada sighed. "This is why you need to sleep more." he muttered, although no one heard him.

America sleepily pulled out his notes and looked over them. "Anyway, as fah as global warmin', this heah," he turned on the projector to show a large picture of Canada and Russia standing in snow up to their knees "Ah have a ideah." he continued. "As Y'alls know, Russia's main export is snow an' vodka, an' Canada's main exports is snow an' maple syrup, so ah think if we jus' have them export snow ta bunch of place's that'r hawt, that'll just about do it ta stop global warming!" He finished his speach with yet another yawn, and for once no country said anything, not even a single "Who?".

Then finally, almost shakily, Germany raised his hand. "America - Vhat vas that?" America's head was already nodding again and he jerked it up. "Huh? What? Ya want me ta go over it agin?" He sighed but obliged. "So ah was thinkin' we ken jus' have Russia 'n' Canada heah send on over some of their snow, an' then-" Canada had been slowly counting down as America spoke, and as he reached one, England blew, jumping to his feet and slamming his hands on the table. "What's with that awful accent, you bloddly wanker?" England snapped. "I've told you time and time again to use proper English!"

America regarded England's outburst as though he was a cute child throwing a tantrum, and slowly responded. "Ah can't help it, ahm plumb tuckered out. No need to throw a hissy." England made a noise between an angry dog and a cobra spitting and threw himself out of his chair at America. Only Canada's quick reaction, due to the fact he had been expecting this, stopped England from fastening his hands around America's unprotected throat. France for once, made no attempt to stop England, which Canada suspected was due to the fact France had much the same reaction when Canada spoke his French around him.

By the time England calmed down and Germany managed to take control of the meeting again, the cause of all the fuss lay slumped over the podium in a deep sleep, softly snoring. If England hadn't tired himself out trying to murder America, he might have been tempted to try it again, if only for the fact that America had the nerve to sleep through it. But, due to the fact that Russia looked one wrong move away from murdering everyone in the room, and his own exhaustion, England decided he would let it go.

That is, until America muttered while still half asleep "s'okay, England, ah'll jus' microwave mah tea."

This time, even Canada didn't try to stop England.


	7. There is a Spider at a world meeting?

The meeting was going on pretty much as it always did, noisily, but at least they seemed to be making progress. That is, until England's proper speech turned into a shrill shriek. Greece jerked awake, slamming his head on Turkey's head, which had been resting on his shoulder, waking him up too. All of the countries stared at England, who was now hiding behind America.

"Australia!" England cried, half demandingly, half pleadingly. He pointed a finger accusingly at a large spider sitting on the podium, on top of his notes. "That's one of yours, isn't it?" America blanched at the huge spider and backed up several steps, while Canada conveniently disappeared. Italy burst into tears at the sight of it and hid behind Germany, who looked rather as though he'd like to keep that spider as far away as possible. Austria and France looked quite sick, and Prussian started bugging Spain to poke it with a stick.

Switzerland had enough and slammed his hands on the table. "Well?" He demanded sensibly. "Someone should just kill it already!" Despite his strong words, he made no move to get closer to the spider, killing intent or not. "NOOOO!" Australia wailed, throwing himself forward and carefully gathering the spider in his bare hands. "This little bloke is cute and won't hurt anyone! " The spider, contrary to his words, then proceeded to bite him, causing his hand to instantly start swelling and turn red. For a moment, Australia didn't seem to notice, still beaming at the spider.

Then New Zealand pointed a finger shakily at the affected area and weakly said. "Um, Australia, your hand is..." Australia glanced down at his hand, processing the information, then loudly swore. Within moments, Australia changed his whole demeanour. He threw the spider on the floor, and stomped on it mercilessly, then spat on it derisively.

"What?" He asked, seeing England's horrified look. "I can always get a new one. And he deserved it, that bugger." He beamed again as though he hadn't just coldly disposed of something he had called cute moments before. England scolded him, brave in the absence of the spider. "I've told you time and time again, to leave your weird poisonous animals at your place!" Australia pouted. "It's just a small funnel spider. no need to throw a fit, mate."

Egypt quietly offered Australia an ointment for his swollen hand, and Australia thankfully accepted. England pinched his nose and sighed. "at least there aren't anymore." he said. Australia froze while applying the ointment. England froze too, noticing this. "There aren't any more, right Australia?" His tone was tense. Australia rubbed the back of his neck, guiltily.

"Well, I can't just bring one, can I?" He said with a sheepish grin. "But its okay!" he defended before Switzerland lost it and shot him. "I have him here in his case!" He held up an empty case, and the smile faltered on his face as he noticed the open lid. "Ah."

The meeting room descended into chaos. Above all the various screams, Switzerland's shooting, and the Italy brother's crying , was heard England's outraged voice. "AUSTRALIA!"


	8. America refuses to switch back?

"That's it, Alfred!" Canada demanded, pointing furiously at his twin. "I agreed to switch for a couple days with you because you said you were feeling stressed, but it's already been over a week! I want my life back!" America yawned, leaning back in his chair and tossing some ketchup chips in his mouth. "No way dude." He responded carelessly. "People are nice to me for no reason when they think I'm you. Cuba talks to me, France doesn't try to grope me, and almost everyone ignores me, which I love because I always fight with at least one country every time we meet." He licked the ketchup off his fingers. "Besides, do you know how many times I've been insulted since I switched with you?" America continued enthusiastically. "Zero!" He supplied the answer without waiting for Canada's response. America kicked his feet up on Canada's coffee table.

"Dude, I wish I could be you forever!" "You can't!" Canada cried, on the verge of tears. "I don't want to be you forever!" He wiped at his eyes with his bandaged hands. "When I'm you, everyone sees me and it's nice, but even when I speak they ignore my ideas, and China insulted me for no reason earlier and he's not the first! And even though I haven't had a hamburger in ages everyone keeps bringing them up, and saying I'm going to get fat, and Britain is so hard on me and I know he only scolds us because he cares but my hair isn't messy so-"Canada broke off his babbling as he saw a flash of something in America's eyes. He hesitated for a moment, then continued weakly." And I'm pretty sure Lithuania has figured out we're not the same person..." He trailed off, noticing his brother's shoulders droop, as he seemed to fold in on himself.

Canada sighed loudly. "I guess I can be you for a little longer." He yielded, and America instantly seemed to perk up. "Only until France notices!" Canada was quick to warn. "Thanks bro! You're the best!" America threw himself full force at Canada, catching him in a bear hug. Canada couldn't help but smile at this. "Well, I do love hanging out with Japan, he's so cool, and it's nice to be noticed and cared for by Britain all the time, even if he scolds me. Besides, it's nice to be the country everyone envies, even if they insult me all the time." Canada gave in. America pouted." I'm still the hero,even when I'm you!" He defended, still clinging to Canada. Canada patted his brother on the back, comfortingly.

"Of course, Al, you're alway the hero to me, no matter who you act like." America's eyes widened at this information. Canada pried his brother off him. "I want my place clean when I come back, don't turn it into a pigsty!" He demanded. "And please don't upset any of my friends like Cuba and don't pick any fights with the Netherlands, okay?" He frowned as he thought of something. "Wait, did you say France groped you?" A dangerous aura formed around Canada and he cursed in French. He threw a glance at America, and America flinched at the look on his face. "You don't mind if I beat the shit out of him while I'm you, do you?" He asked, and America weakly shook his head. "But will you be okay with that?" America asked cautiously. "Aren't you really close?"

Canada cracked his knuckles. "I don't care who it is, no one picks on my little brother!" America was touched for a second, then he frowned. "I'm the big brother, I gained independence first!" "No, I am," Canada argued, finding America's baseball bat for his upcoming fight. He found the bat and swung it testingly with a glint in his eye. "Britain said I'm older because I learned the alphabet first!" America wanted to argue, but knowing England, it was exactly the kind of thing he might say. America opened his mouth, an argument on the tip of the tongue, when Canada turned to him, almost excitedly. "I'm going to beat up France, if you need me! "

America swallowed his argument as he watched Canada slam the door behind him. After all, his brother was doing so much for him, he may as well let him think he's older. Because that's what heros do. He sat back down on the couch feeling slightly comforted. A week later, after a lot of complaining and cajoling from Canada, and yes, a little threatening, America finally switched back. He noticed France didn't touch him anymore, and instead stayed far away from America, as his leg was still in a cast and his head was still bandaged. He also noticed a lot of the other countries were nicer to him then before, and England actually listened to his ideas before denouncing them.

Canada noticed he was noticed more, and that the countries that tended to bully him had stopped. The other countries noticed that something was different about America sometimes, but they couldn't say exactly what. Only France knew, but he wouldn't say anything, even if Canada hadnt threatened him. After all, he wanted them both to be happy. And every now and then, Canada becomes more noticeable and America is a little nicer, and maybe both of them wink at each other from across the room, and in a few days or weeks, everything goes back to normal, and everything is okay.

Because that's what big brothers do.


	9. America has a nightmare?

America woke up, screaming, in a cold sweat. He could vividly remember the feeling in his dream, a nauseous, sickening feeling. He remembered the way his eyes had rolled back in his head, the feeling as though his tongue had turned to lead and his stomach had been filled with poison, but most of all, the feeling of abject terror. He gripped his arms with his shaking fingers tightly to make sure they weren't spasming like in the dream, and swung his legs out of bed, testing to see if they could hold his weight. Finding his legs did, in fact, work properly, and had not turned to jelly like in the dream, he walked into the bathroom and gargled some mouthwash, desperately trying to gt rid of the bad taste left me the dream.

The bad taste didn't seem to fade from his mouth, so he gulped some mouthwash down, shuddering. His heart was going a thousand miles an hour from the memory, and when he closed his eyes he could see the scene playing out like a movie on the backs of his eyelids, and America felt the need to puke urgently. Finally, he did something he only did when he was very upset, and with shaking fingers, dialled the phone.

Canada picked up on the third ring even though it was only 2am, with a grouchy "What?" America licked his lips and tried to speak. When his words came out, his voice was low, and trembling. "Mattie..." With this one word, Canada seemed to wake up instantly. "That dream again?" America nodded tearfully, forgetting Canada couldn't see through the phone, but his brother seemed to understand. "You always get this dream around this time of year.." America could hear the creaking as his brother sat up in bed, fully awake, and preprinh to tlk his brother through his nightmare.

"I'm scared." America admitted, in a quieter voice than even Canada's. Canada's brotherly instics kicked into gear, and he soothed America gently. "It'll be okay. We won't let him do that to you ever again. France and I will make it ourselves, so trust us." Alfred still felt as though someone had jamed rotten eggs mixed with rotten fish and gasoline down his throat with a molten metal rod, and he swallowed, trying to get rid of the taste.

Canada went a step farther, attempting to be the mediator. "You'll be okay." Canada promised, continuing. "It's not like Britain did it on purpose, he had good intentions." America's lower lip trembled. "You don't understand." He whispered, pitifully, and a little spitefully. "He doesn't do this to you." America could tell he struck a nerve by the slight intake of breath on the other end of the phone, and felt a little guilty for the feeling of spiteful satisfaction he got from it.

"America, its not like I want to be constantly forgotten." Canada said in a light scolding tone, but there was an undertone of deeper feelings in his words. Canada took a deep breath, as though to calm himself and continued. When his brother spoke, his voice was understanding, although there was a slight tension to it. "Listen, forget about that time. Just trust me, even if you don't trust anyone else. Just believe in me when I say that this year is going to be your best birthday ever, and I will never again let Britain make the cake."

America sniffled, then smiled a tiny smile. "Thanks Mattie." His brother grunted in a non-commital way. "So can I go back to sleep now?" America snickered a little, lightly, and answered "Yeah, go back to sleep, rest up, you'll need it for your party later." If Canada hadn't already fallen back asleep, he may have hear his brother's gentle "Happy birthday!" before he hung up.

America padded to his bed and slipped into it, as a thought occurred to him. Since he had eaten the cake first, Canada hadn't touched it, so, in a way, America had saved his brother, hadn't he?" America grinned at the thought. "After all, I am the hero." He thought to himself as he drifted back to sleep, to dream of protecting a fragile and weak Canada from a giant food monster England accidently summoned while cooking.


	10. Canada is unhealthy?

America slammed down his hands in the table, interrupting England's nagging. "Why do you always pick on me? Canada is just as unhealthy!" He argued back. England didn't look convinced, so America scowled. "When was the last time you ate at Canada's house? I'll show you!" With those words, he pulled out his phone and began dialling Canada, before England could protest.

"Hello?" Canada answered cautiously. "Yo, bro, it's me!" Canada sighed. "Hi America, how can I help you?" America smirked at England and decided to twist the truth a little. "England was saying how he would like to go to your place and try some Canadian food you know, so I was wondering if you would mind?" America didn't have to see his brother's face to know that Canada was beaming as he answered. "Of course! Come right over! I'll whip something up!"

...

England blanched at the bowl put in from of him. The golden fries were topped with a thick brown gravy, not at all like a thin, smooth, English gravy, and lots of cheese curds. Canada was beaming at him. " Go on, try it!" Reluctantly England took a bite, and he swore he could feel his arteries harden. He smiled painfully at Canada and said weakly "It's very good. Isn't there quite a lot of carbs though?" America boisterously laughed. "Yeah, I call it his 'heart-attack-in-a-bowl'." America laughed. "at least my fries with the works have vegetables in them."

While Canada pouted and America laughed, England quickly dumped the calorie-heavy meal into kumajiro dish. When Canada turned around, England was patting his lips with a napkin. I'm sorry Canada, England thought, but I can't eat that much junk food. Canada looked thrilled to see he staple food gone so quickly, and America gave England a funny look. England blushed and looked away. America decided to ignore that and turned to Canada, demandingly, having finished his own poutine.

"Mattie, dude, where are the chips?" "chips? " England was dismayed. They had just had chips! Canada put several bowls on the table, and England remembered that for some reason, his two former colonies insisted on calling "crisps" "chips". Canada was describing the flavours happily. "These ones are ketchup flavored, these ones are all dressesld, and I got these from PEI," He guestured at a bowl "Theyre chocolate covered!" "They're what? " Even America looked put off, looking a little queasy, but under his brother's sparkling gaze, he reluctantly took one and ate one. "These aren't too bad! " America decided, grabbing a handful.

England tasted a ketchup chip, and instantly couched into his napkin. His eyes watered painfully and he turned tearfully to Canada. "why are they spicy?" he asked. Canada looked surprised. "Eh?" "Only a prissy man like you would think ketchup is spicy!" America laughed. England pouted, pushing the chips away. "Well, that was a very good dinner," He began, lying through his teeth. Canada perked up.

"Time for desert!" Canada announced, disappearing into the kitchen and reappearing with a tray of sweets. He put it down in front of England. "I brought butter tarts, and Nanaimo bars, and of course, Beavertails!" Canada declared happily. England looked horrified. "Beaver tails?" He repeated, a little queasily. Canada laughed. "It's just what I call this deep-fried dough with sweet spreads and candies or fruit on it." he explained. "Because it's shaped like a Beavertail." England finally realized what America had been trying to say earlier. Everything Canada had served him was extremely unhealthy.

Canada didn't seem to notice England's expression, and once again, disappeared into the kitchen in to reappear with a hot pot of amber liquid. "Since you're here," Canada explained with shinning eyes, "I thought we could make maple syrup candies together!" England smiled at this. It wouldn't be Canada without maple syrup. "What do you mean?" he asked simply. "Let's go outside!" Canada dragged England outside by the arm, and America trailed behind, a knowing smile on his face as he watched for England's reaction.

"See?" Canada explained, turning to England." You just pour the boiled syrup on the snow, and then use a stick to scoop it up-" He demonstrated, scooping the cooling syrup up on a stick." Like so! " He presented a stick to England as though it was a royal sceptre. England took it, agast. America had already eaten two and was working on his third, while Canada was on his tenth. England looked at the hardened syrup on a stick and spoke slowly. "Canada," he said as gently as he could. "Maybe you should consider going on a diet."

Canada dropped his stick of maple candy and turned pale as a ghost. For moment there was dead silence, then Canada collapsed in the snow and loud wail split the air.

"Nnnnnnnoooooooo!"

America collapsed too, from laughing too hard.


	11. Canada fights back?

Canada had not been expecting the surprise attack coming from behind, but years of being bullied in retaliation against his brother had honed his instincts. He dodged the oncoming blow, and the rusty, slightly bloody metal pipe went through the wall where his head had been, leaving a hole in the drywall. He stared up at Russia, hovering over him, with a malicious aura leaking out.

"H-Hello there Russia!" Canada squeaked, shaking. Russia's metal pipe once again cracked the wall where Canada's head had been, saved only by Canada's deft ducking. "I'm Canada!" He yelped, "Not America!" Russia's glowering beam did not change, and he laughed, a little too harshly. "America, you are funny." with a splintering sound, Russia split the floor at Canada's feet. Canada danced away lightly, poised on his toes, ready for the next blow.

Russia titled his head. "I didn't know you were so fast America." He noted, but then continued in a blood chilling way. "Does not matter. You cannot run when I break your legs." Canada leapt as the heavy Iron pipe was aimed at his legs. "I. Am. CANADA!" He panted, but Russia wasn't listening. Canada watched his movements, trying to predict his next move. He began to realize, with a sinking heart, that no "Hero" was coming to rescue him this time.

It was fight or flight. And Russia was much, much faster than him, much, much bigger than him, and almost a thousand times more dangerous than he was. Turning his back was not an option, so flight was out. Canada steadied himself, switching from a defensive stance to an offensive stance. Fight it was. The moment it took to switch his stances cost him dearly. The pipe fell against his dominate leg with a crack, and Canada let out a soundless cry as he felt the bone snap. He stumbled, falling to the knee of his good leg, and then rolled, avoiding the next blow.

The pain shooting up from his leg was awakening a different feeling inside him, a spirit more terrifying, more deadly than a wild polar bear, more strong, and more intimidating than a wild moose, and more vicious and persistant than a Canadian Goose. Canada felt a feeling begin to take over, and he moved swift, chopping Russia in the wrist as the other country lashed out with his weapon, and the L shaped pipe clattered to the ground.

Canada picked it up, and the moment his hands closed around the familiar shape, he felt confident, and unafraid. He grinned, and Russia stopped his attack to stare, unnerved, at the maliciously grinning country, dragging a broken leg, and armed with his own weapon. It didn't make sense to be grinning in this situation, and it scared Russia. A warning bell sounded somewhere in the back of Russia's head as Canada once again changed stance.

The half-crouched pose, the way he held the pipe, upside down, as though it were a golf club- no that wasn't it. Russia raked his brain, a tiny voice answered his question. Like a hockey stick. The alarm bells were louder now, and clearer, and Russia, never one to back down from a fight, steeled himself. Canada spoke, tone dripping with something akin to excitement - adrenaline. "Let's play." And before Russia fully processed what was happen, Canada swung the "hockey stick".

...

"Oh, America, Russia was looking for you." Germany relayed the information to America as he walked by. "Ve~He looked mad!" Italy agreed, helpfully. Just then, China walked in the room. "Huh, America? Weren't you just fighting Russia in the hall?" America laughed. "What? No? Dude, you're so old your eyesight is going!" China scowled. "Well it looked just like you. It's not like you have a twin or something!" He tutted and stalked away. America froze, dropping his milkshake. He looked at Germany, and Germany's eyes were wide and scared. The answer came from them both in unison. "Canada." America swore loudly and bolted for the hall, desperately.

Italy peered anxiously into Germany's pale face. "It's okay Germany!" He encouraged, uncertainly. "America will save Canada from Russia!" Germany sank into his chair, weakly. "You don't understand." Germany told Italy, trying to calm the shaking in his legs caused by the memory of the last time he fought Canada. "America isn't saving Canada from Russia." Italy's eyes opened wide, revealing his rarely seen amber eyes at Germany's next sentence. "America is saving Russia from Canada."


	12. England is intense in regards to tea?

Canada pulled a bottle of syrup out of his pocket and reached for the teacup. He stopped when he felt a bloodchilling aura. He raised his eyes and weakly met England's gaze. The dark aura surrounding England, the stiff way he held his crossed leg and his teacup, the tense line in his jaw, and the deadly glare he was giving Canada all set off warning bells in Canada's brain. He froze, knowing one wrong move could end his life. Finally England spoke, and his tone lowered the degree of the room several degrees. "Canada. What are you doing." He phrased it like a question, but said it like a statement. Canada managed a nervous smile. "I was just going to sweaten my tea." He offered weakly. England extended his picky finger in the direction of the sugar bowl, and without moving or taking his eyes off Canada and said sternly. "The sugar is right there."

Canada hesitated. He sweetened everything with maple syrup. "I kinda thought I would just-" he began, his voice dwingling under England's glare. "Don't tell me you were going to add that wretched syrup to your tea?" England asked, and Canada suddenly wanted to hide. "N-no..." Canada gave way. "Good. Because anyone who would commit such a travesty against tea in my house would quickly learn to deeply regret it." England's tone maintained a steady chill. "I'll use sugar." Canada said quickly, reaching for the sugar bowl. England relaxed, but not without a final warning. "No more than a teaspoon at most. Any more will ruin your earl grey." Canada bit back a protest. Canada liked his stuff almost overly sweet.

He decided against his protest and simply added a heaping teaspoon to his cup, which England frowned at, but let go. "Would you like some lemon juice for that?" England offered, back to his usual tone, now relaxed and calm sipping his tea. Lemon juice? Canada threw a glance at him to see if he was joking. He didn't appear to be, so Canada simply said "no thanks." He sipped his tea and wondered if it be amiss to request milk, but decided he would rather drink it as then risk upsetting England. As Canada gently sipped his tea, casting cautious looks at England from time to time, his brother made his appearance.

America came barging in, loudly as always, a spotted the tea pot on the table and promptly poured himself a cupful. Canada watched him reach fr the sugar bowl, wondering if he should perhaps warn him, but America had already dumped the whole sugar bowl into his cup. He then proceeded to down the rather thick mixture in one go. "Ah, that hit the spot!" He sighed with relief. "Coffe would be bet-" He was cut off by a loud bang. He threw himself backwards and barely avoided the bullet. "What the hell?" He said, throwing a wide-eyed glance at England, who was fuming, almost as much as the smoking pistol.

"HOW DARE YOU TREAT TEA LIKE THAT?" England snarled angrily, cocking the gun again. The murderous aura was back, and stronger than before, and America stood like a deer in headlights in front of England's raging form. He met Canada's eyes from where Canada was cowering behind England's back, and Canada mouthed one word to him.

"RUN." America bolted for the door as England fired at his heels.


	13. America is held hostage

*This is a fictional war

America pulled half-heartedly at the ropes holding him to the chair. "Did you really have to go this far?" He complained, but his voice only edged on annoyance, nowhere near the anger he should be feeling right now. "It can't be helped." Germany shrugged. "I need your brother to come out of hiding." He threw a look at the North American in the chair, legs splayed lazily in front of him, an almost bored look on his face. The bonds were tight enough to hold him, but not to hurt him.

"Just be glad we're holding you hostage to Italy's standards. As you know, my boss prefers a rougher way." Germany said shortly, wryly remembering how most captives are treated. America actually laughed at this. "Dude, as if you could hurt me!" Germany was a little concerned about how laid back America was. You'd almost think that he was just a guest over for a snack rather than a captive. Italy patted America on the head, as though he were a dog. "It's okay America!" Italy said happily. "Once Canada come out of hiding to save you, we'll let you go!"

America thought about this for a moment. "I dont think this is a good idea." He warned. Germany frowned. "Maybe so, but we have no other choice. We need Canada to join the war or we will lose."

"Okay, but-" America began to point out the obvious flaw in their plan. Something large exploded in the distance, and the soldiers voiced were loud and hurried, then just as quickly went quiet. Germany rushed to the window and stared with wide eyes as yet another tank blew up. America ignored the commotion as though he was used to it - no, as though he was expecting it. America continued his thought, carelessly. "Even if he joins the war, you kidnapped me."

As another explosion sounded, nearer than before, Germany turned to America, his eyes widening with realization. "What makes you think he'll be on your side?" America finished with a smirk. The next explosion happened right outside the door, and the Germany turned to release America, but America was no longer tied to his chair. "What-" Germany turned at the familiar cry. "Italy!" The other country crumpled to the floor, unconscious.

"You were tied up!" Germany accused, painfully aware of the enemy getting ever closer outside the door, and the now-free enemy inside the room. America laughed again, the same carefree laugh as earlier, as he sized up Germany. "I untied myself a long time ago. Italy sucks at keeping prisoners contained." He stretched, popping his neck. Germany's responding curse was drowned out by a large bang. "Aand.. That would be the door." America commented.

He stepped over Italy's limp firm and grasped a brick, pulling it cleanly out of the wall, leaving a gaping hole. He weighed the brick in his hand, then met Germany's eyes. "It's best if you don't fight." He warned. "I'm doing this to save you." The sound of footsteps running down the hall ways obvious now, and Germany realized that America was right. Even so, it took all his strength to not dodge or block the oncoming blow.

Germany's body slumped to the floor as the door to the room they were in blasted open. Canada burst into the room, bloddied and carrying the smell of gunpowder, smoke, and gasoline. "America!" America turned to see his frenzied brother, eyes wide and feral, a vicious growl ringingbin his tone. America grinned, holding out his arms. "I'm fine, Canada!" He had to take a step back to steady himself as his brother launched himself into his arms.

"Sorry I took so long." Canada murmured in his typical fashion, his eyes already turning less feral. America grinned. "Bro, I could hear you coming from miles away, did you destroy every tank in the German army?" Canada pulled out of his brothers arms, and began inspecting him for injuries. "I don't know about miles," He said distractedly. "I only measure in kilometres. Also, I didn't just destroy the tanks." America felt a chill run through his bones at the casual way Canada said his next words.

"I destroyed the whole army."


	14. Author's Note

Chapter 9 has been updated and should now show correctly.


	15. Canada helps America make friends? - 1

Canada's brother had difficulty making friends. No, not because he was shy, or didn't know how to speak to people. Because he was oblivious to other people's feelings and either missed their intentions completely, or misread them and assumed everyone hated him. America _acted_ like he was friends with everybody, with his open grin, and habitual joking and laughing-but that only lasted while he was with other countries.

When everyone else left the room, America's easy grin disappeared, and his eyes betrayed his tension. Not that America had ever told Canada that. It's just that Canada was always forgotten, always invisible, so he saw a lot more than anyone knew. The other countries tended not to notice he was in the room, and would let down there guard around him. This way Canada could see their true emotions and intentions.

This is how Canada knew that America was lonely. America did have England, but their relationships were strained, underlined by what they both felt was a betrayal from the other. Of course, America had Canada too, but someone who was barely noticed and mostly invisible didn't really count, even if they were brothers. Canada didn't mind. He had his own friends, Cuba, and the Netherlands, that he could go to when he couldn't go to family. But Canada was worried about America.

Thankfully, due to Canada's superb espionage skills, he had found just the right country to be his brother's friend. He knew that America had had issues with this country before, but it wasn't as if America didn't have issues with every country at some point. He knew everyone was tense about this country, but he had interacted against this country himself in hockey games, and had seen this country's true face when he was alone, and it was just as lonely and sad as America's. He even knew the two countries had a mutual friend in Lithuania, one of the few countries America actually truly seemed to like.

The only problem was that America never seemed to speak to him. In a group, it would seem like America was speaking to him, and it was never obvious that he wasn't speaking to him, but the more Canada watched, the more he realized that these two countries simply never actually interacted in a normal conversation. So Canada took things into his own hands.

America was striding down the hallway, holding a hot McDonald's coffee in one hand, when Canada intercepted him, quickly and unescapable. Canada knew he only had a few seconds to execute his plan. "Hey, America, let me have a sip!" He demanded, rather unlike himself, and America was so shocked he didn't even protest when Canada pulled the hot drink out of his hands. Even as America opened his mouth to say "What are you doing?" Canada stuck out a foot and tripped him, and just like he predicted, Russia came around the corner at that same exact second.

America fell right onto Russia, pushing him down and landing in his lap. "Ah!" America quickly pushed himself up before Russia had time to react. "I'm sorry!" it was an accident!" Russia's eyes were round as America defended himself. "Hey Mattie, tell him-" He turned, but Canada was gone. America faltered. Russia helped himself up, dusting off his backside. "Be more careful in the future, da?" He warned, brushing past America and going on his way. For a moment, America stood frozen where he was, bewildered at his brother's actions. Then he realized something.

"Dammit Canada! He stole my coffee!" Canada took a sip of the coffee and made a face. "Tim's is better." he decided, dropping the coffee in a nearby trashbin. He was silently watching Russia, who turned the corner rather quickly, looking flushed and happy. Not a perfect result, but definitely better than before. Canada decided he would definitely help the two countries grow closer, no matter what it took.


	16. Canada helps America make friends? - 2

And Canada's harassment of America grew worse. America was beyond bewildered at his brothers unorthodox actions. He couldn't help but wonder if he did something to piss Canada off. So far this week, he'd been pushed into Russia twice, had his coffee stolen, gotten locked in a room together with Russia (though only briefly before Russia broke the door down and let them out), and had found someone had switched his and Russia's speeches so he had to find Russia to swap them again.

And of course, America knew who the cause of all these issues was, he just didn't understand why? Maybe he had somehow pissed his brother off? But he could never seem to catch Canada to ask. But Russia was able to. America was just about to walk into the room when he heard Russia's thick-accented voice. "Why are you bullying America?" Russia demanded. America peeked around the corner and saw Russia had cornered Canada and had him pinned against the wall.

America was still the hero of course, and he had to save his brother...but first he would listen to find out how he had upset Canada. "What do you mean?" Canada responded timidly. Russia wasn't buying it and he pressed on the wall so hard that a handprint shaped hole appeared. "Cut the crap. I know you are bullying America. Tell me why." He growled. Canada wilted and America was just about to go in and save him when-

"I didn't mean to bully him." Canada admitted. "I just wanted him to make a friend." Russia frowned. "By pushing him into me and locking us up together and other things?" Canada squirmed. "Well, you didn't talk to each other at all, so I wanted to make an excuse to talk happen." He flinched at Russia's look. "I'm sorry!" he yelped. "I'll stop!" America flushed. He had lots of friends! Why did Canada think he had to help America make friends? "Russia seemed to be of the same opinion. "America has many friends, da? Why do you want him to befriend Russia?"

Canada pouted. "He doesn't have a lot of friends. he just pretends he's close with everyone." He muttered. Russia removed his hand from in the wall, little bits of plaster falling from the hole he made. "I thought you'd make a good friend." He admitted. "I've played against you, and I know you're a good guy, even if everyone else is scared of you. America doesn't judge by appearances, and you don't have a lot of friends either." Canada was on a roll, full on sulking now. "Is it so bad to try to look out for my brother?" America couldn't decide whether he wanted to hug Canada or punch him. He couldn't believe his brother would embarrass him like that-or care like that.

He had just decided to do both, when Russia responded. "You will stop now." He commanded. "America does not need your help to make friends." America bristled. No-one but him was allowed to be cold to his brother! Russia continued, voice softening. "America can make friends by his own power. He is strong." Canada was nodding, agreeing. America felt proud, but also a little patronized for some reason. Canada didn't think he could befriend Russia on his own? he'd show him! Russia, having said his part, let Canada go, and America hid as his brother scampered out of the room.

"You heard, America?" Russia asked once Canada was gone. "You knew I was there the whole time, huh?" America drawled, slipping out of his hiding space, trying to ignore his burning ears. "So?" Russia pressed. "I can make friends on my own." America scowled, "I don't need help from a guy who's only friends are maple syrup and hockey." His words were harsh, but his tone said the opposite. America cast a sidelong glance at Russia. "Speaking of hockey, you and I are due for a game. I don't play Canada anymore because he gets too intense." Russia grinned, and accepted the offer happily, realizing he'd been recognized as a friend. "Da."

Canada scooped up the white bear that strolled out of the room after America and Russia had left. "Well, Kuma? How'd it go?" He asked. The bear lazily scratched his ear, then answered slowly. "Yeah, the loud one and the other guy are going to play hockey. " He blinked at the country holding him. "Who are you?" Canada ignored his question and grinned. "Mission successful!" he beamed happily, then froze. "Wait-Hockey?" His eyes lit up and he turned and bolted down the hallway after the other two countries. "I wanna play too!"


	17. Prussia and England swap bodies?

It would be hard to say exactly who was to blame for this situation. It was true that Prussia had come slamming into him top speed because he wasn't looking where he war running, but the little voice inside England guiltily whispered that he was at fault too, for practicing his magic in the middle of the hallway. England however, decided to ignore that voice. "What the bloody hell were you thinking!" He demanded, almost hysterically, whirling on Prussia. "Dude, this is so not awesome!" Prussia declared, jumping to his feet in a slight panic.

"Who's fault do you think it is?" England snapped, looking down at Prussia, which he could now do at his height. Prussia was not paying attention, furrow ing his bushy brows. "It's not my fault!" Prussia complained, stopping to once again check out his reflection in the mirror. "You ran into me!" England argued, slightly distracted by his sudden urge to go get a drink. "How was I supposed to know we'd swap bodies?" Prussia argued back, turning to face England.

It was odd to hear Prussia rapsy voice coming from his body, and weirded still to see the strange way Prussia chose to stand in his body. Not at all in the proper British way, leaning more on one leg in a strange casual way, while still managing to look like he was standing at attention. If Prussia thought it was odd to hear England's hysterical proper British accent from his body, he didn't show it, too busy panicking about the situation.

"Crap, look at the time!" Prussia barked, and England realized what he was about to do a spilt second before he did it. "Gotta go, West is cooking wurst for dinner!" "Wait-" England lurched forward, but Prussia was already running away, still in England's body. "Come back!" England yelled after him. "I haven't switched us back yet!" Prussia didn't hear him.

"Hey West!" Germany didnt need to turn to look to know who had just slammed the door behind him. The bathroom tap ran, briefly, and there was a scraping noise as his older brother slid into his chair. "Is it done?" Prussia demanded, and Germany sighed. "Ja, it's done. Just wait a moment." He quickly dished up the sausages onto two plates, not even glancing at his brother as he put the plate down, knowing Prussia would whine if it took too long. "Here, eat." Germany sighed popping down into his seat. "What the hell?" Prussia's raised voice drew Germany's attention for the first time. "It tastes wierd!" Prussia complained, smacking his lips as though he couldn't decide if he liked the flavour or not.

There was a beat of silence, then Germany lept to his feet, pushing the chair back. "_England? _ " "Huh?" Prussia froze for a moment. "What?" Germany faltered. "You okay West?" England's signature bushy eyebrows drew together in concern. "Wait, brother?" Germany realized, confused. Prussia realized what the issue was and burst out laughing in his trademark "Kesesesese" and Germany knew without a doubt that it was Prussia, despite his eyes cleary saying it was England. "What?" Germany demanded again.

Prussia didn't have the chance to respond as suddenly there was a loud banging sound from the door, and England's proper tone scolded, "Prussia! Give back my body!" Prussia was out of his seat and yanking open the door in seconds. "What the hell did you do to the awesome me!" Prussia demanded, for the first time exhibiting signs of panic. "My wurst tastes all wrong!" He wailed, and England fought the urge to wallop him upside the head. "_I _didn't do anything!" England argued. "It's because _you _ran into me!" Germany finally understood what had happened, and pinched his fingers over the bridge of his nose with a groan.

"Please just fix him." Germany pleaded. "that was my intention." England sniffed, grabbing Prussia's wrist. "Hey, what?" Prussia squirmed, uncomfortable with the sudden touch. "The spell requires physical touch!" England muttered back, a little miffed, and then drew his wand out of his jacket pocket. This was an awkward procedure, since his jacket was currently on the body Prussia was currently in. Before any further complaints could be made, England swished the wand with a command, and then he suddenly felt nauseated.

Prussia too, looked about to hurl, his hand on his mouth, his red eyes looking disoriented. Wait-Red eyes? England realized thst we no longer looking at himself, and turned with a pleased expression to examine himself in the window. Prussia, as soon as the nasuea had passed, rushed to the table and stuffed the sausage into his mouth with moan of pleasure. "It's so good!" Prussia cried, literally, a tear glittering in the corner of his eye. Moments later an argument broke out about England's tastebuds, and was quickly ended by Germany tossing the intruder out the door, but not before England got one deadly scone forced down Prussia's throat.

Prussia swore revenge.


	18. Switzerland has anger management class?

"I don't need anger management classes!" Switzerland snapped, slamming his hands on the table. Honestly he wouldn't have been their if Litchenstien hadn't insisted, saying she was worried about his health. He had tried to explain that he didn't have anger management problems, everyone else was just really good at irratating him, but it had no effect, and he had finally agreed to take the class. Unsurprisingly, Switzerland did not feel any closer to managing his anger, and much closer to murdering everyone else in the room.

At his outburst the rest of the group stopped arguing to look at him. Greece, sleeping on a desk at the front, where he was supposed to be teaching, briefly woke up. For a moment the group was silent, then Romano snickered. "Sure!" Romano mocked, "Nobody here does!" He jabbed a finger over his shoulder. "England's not here because he tried to strangle France, Russia is not a_ complete psychopath_, and I'm all daisies and buttercups!" He said, growing more sarcastic with each word.

Russia beamed as though he wanted nothing more to be in anger management class with a bunch of hot-tempered countries, but the ever-growing dark aura surrounding him said otherwise. "You have a problem with Russia?" He asked, brandishing his metal pipe, and Romano turned pale, hiding behind Germany. "Protect me, you potato bastard!" He demanded, shaking. Germany didn't make a move, still working hard on the "drawing that makes you happy" that Greece had instructed them to work on at the start of the class, before he fell asleep. Germany had said he was their to "become more controled and stricter." though Switzerland wasn't sure that was possible.

Russia was still smiling threatening l'y behind his metal pole, and England wouldn't stand for it. "You're not allowed to bring that here!" England ordered firmly, which would have been more effective if he wasn't as far away as possible from Russia as the small room would allow. "Hmm? You will stop me?" Russia asked, getting more and more threatening by the moment. "I'm not afraid of you!" England blurted, drawing out a wand and pointing it at Russia. It fired a beam of light, nearly hitting Romano, and the smaller country had enough.

Romano reached for the nearest thing to throw, which just so happened to be a plate of England's unpalatable scones. The scone missed England and lodge in the wall behind him, cracking the wall without so much as crumbling. Switzerland made a mental note not to eat one of those, ever. England responded with an outraged cry as Romano insulted his food, and a misplaced spell hit Greece, transforming him into a cat, though he remained asleep.

A flying scone nearly hit Russia, but was batted away with his metal pipe, hitting Germany - still ignoring everyone else- in the back of the head, knocking him completely unconscious.

Switzerland was getting more and more irritated by the moment, as well as a bit fearful for his life. "I'm not staying here!" he decided, making a hasty beeline for the door. "I'm going home!" He announced, slamming the door behind him. A moment later he heard a suspicious thudding noise as though Russia has used his favorite metal pipe to put an end to the fight.

"Big brother, what's wrong?" Litchenstien flew to her feet, rushing to his side as he got home. "You're back early." Switzerland sighed at the memory. "Class was cancelled. Permanently." He decided, and Litchenstien looked disappointed. "Oh." She said softly. "Wait, I have something for you." Switzerland held out a folded piece of paper. "Our assignment was to draw something that made us happy." He flushed a little, not meeting his sister's eyes. "This is for you." Without waiting to see her reaction he briskly pushed past her. "I'm going to make lunch."

Moments later he was tackled in the back by Litchenstien. "Thank you big brother!" She declared happily. "I'll treasure it." If Austria found it strange that Switzerland had a picture of mochi Litchenstien and him in a frame on the wall when he visited, he wisely decided not to say anything. Which was probably for the best since Switzerland'anger management class had been cancelled due to lost of the members being severely injured, and the teacher refusing to be turned back into a person.


	19. America has an evil clone?

England pointed the gun tremulously at the pair, wavering between the two of them. "One of you is America, and one of you is a fake."

Canada half hid behind his brother, nervously. America sighed. "England, dude, If you shoot Canada I'm gonna be pissed." Canada whispered something that may or not have been cursing, and America positioned himself more in front of his brother. "Don't you dare shoot him." He warned.

England wavered his gun towards America, sweating. "America would never be so selfless!" Canada jumped in front of America, arms outstretched. "No! I wont let you shoot America!" His voice was loud for once, and he stood firm, despite the obvious trembling in his fingers.

Aha! England thought to himself. That proves it! America can't resist being the hero! "Move and I'll shoot him!" He demanded, trying to aim the gun behind Canada.

"I won't!" Canada wailed. "Please stop!"

England was thoroughly confused.

"America doesn't say please."

England was uncertain. He knew that only one of them was America, but he couldn't tell which. He could shoot them both, but he didn't want to hurt America.

He tried again. "Who wants to get hamburgers?" He asked uncertainly.

"DUDE!" America snapped, unimpressed. "YOU'RE POINTING A GUN AT US! WE DONT WANT BURGERS!"

Canada fidgeted, shifting from foot to foot.

"J-just shoot me" He offered nervously, cringing. "I probabaly won't die."

What? England almost lowered the gun.

Ameirca glared at England. "Try it and my revolution wont be your worst trauma." He warned.

England was panicking. He knew for certain that America's clones was evil, vicious, but neither of the two standing in front of him fit that criteria. If he let them go, who knows what the evil clone might do?

He cocked the gun, hands shaking crazily. He would just have to shoot both-he would injure them, not kill them, then he could interrogate them more to find out which was which.

He raised the gun, and the door flew open and France poked his head in. "Amerique, Have you seen Canada?"

He stopped, noticing the two together.

"Ah! mon garcons, there you are." He threw his arms around them both and planted a kiss on Canada's forehead.

America was too busy glaring at England to push France away and a kiss was administered to his forehead as well.

France followed America's gaze and noticed England, tremulously pointing the gun.

"Ah, Angleterre, what are you doing?" France's tone held more confusion then worry.

England was trying not to cry. "Get away from them, Frog!" He warned, "One of them is an evil clone!"

France tutted loudly at this. "Your jokes have gone too far." he shook his head, but his eyes had a warning in them. "This is America and his twin, Canada. Have you already forgotten?" He laid a gentle hand on the shoulder of each boy.

England lowered his gun. He had a faint memory of two North America's growing up, then the revolution, then just one left...

The gun clattered to the floor. "Canada?" He said unsteadily.

Then the realization hit him. "What have I done?" He dropped to the ground, shaking. For a moment, everything was silent, and America, Canada, and France stood silently, each staring at England with a different expression.

Then the door slammed open once more and somone who looked like Canada and America walked in, except America had dark brown hair, and Canada had long hair tied back in a pony tail.

The pair were loudly arguing. "Cuz youre a fucking vegan." Not-Canada said crankily.

"Suck my dick you maple loving moose-fucker." Replied Not-America.

America bopped a fist on his palm as he remebered something.

"Oh, right! I forgot why this happened in the first place!"

He pointed to the pair." England, that's my evil clone! And Canada's!" He added as an afterthought.

Not-Canada and Not-America turned to stare at England. "What?" Not-America sneered. "Gonna shoot us?"

England fainted.


	20. Russia doesn't like Birthday parties?

**_*I know it's a bit boring, but here's the prequel to the last chapter. I wrote it to give myself a background for the story, and I wasn't originally gonna post it, but then I was like... I already wrote it so why not? Enjoy!_

Russia didn't like birthday parties. He didn't like the crowds of people, the chattering, milling around, the constant snacking, anything about the general rowdiness of the place. He especially didn't like America's birthday party, where he set off huge red, white and blue fireworks and the crowd was twice as loud as at other parties. At one point a table full of snacks exploded when England accidently knocked over a firework while grappling with France.

America had _laughed. _Not in the way Russia would have laughed, as though to say "You will regret this later" but in a way that said he truly thought watching chips and cupcakes splatter everywhere was funny. Russia did not think it was funny. At his house, birthdays were quieter, just him and his siblings. There was present giving, cake, and of course, a sister pulling on his ears in Russian tradition. There was no exploding snack tables, and a lot more vodka. Russia wiped the frosting from his cheek and stormed outside, intending every bit to go home. He wasn't even sure why he ever came.

"Mr. Russia?" Lithuania's familiar voice called out, and Russia was so surprised that he called out that he actually stopped. "Are you alright?" Lithuania's servant side was emerging, or maybe he was always like this, Russia thought, as the other man wiped some frosting and splintered chips off Russia's shoulder with a handkerchief. "I am fine." Russia muttered, but he was so shocked that Lithuania would care for him without being forced that his words lacked his usual growl. Lithuania noticed and gave Russia a hard, searching stare.

"I do not like birthday parties." Russia felt compelled to explain, waving a hand towards the festivities. "I have never had one like this." He added bitterly, unimpressed as there was a large sound of something else breaking, and another raucous laugh from America. Lithuania tilted his head to the side as Russia turned heel and left, knowing Russia's birthday had been only last month. Lithuania hadn't been invited. Now he was wondering if anyone had. Even when the Baltic trio used to live at Russia's house, the "parties" were tense and the atmosphere was thick. There was very little laughing and enjoying the day because of all the stress the nations were under.

An idea occurred to Lithuania, and he sought out the star of the party, knowing his friend America would be the only one who could put his plan into action.


	21. America throws Russia a Birthday Party?

America _loved _throwing birthday parties. He loved arranging the food, the fireworks, the decorations, he loved writing out the invitations and picking the location. He loved his parties so much that he tried to extend tham as much as possible, even to the day after, and was known to sulk once the party was over, until his northern neighbour came over to help clean up the mess and nudge America to his feet with promises of "next time". This time, though, America was not sulking, and had already cleaned the mess from yesterday away, bouncing on his heels.

A friend of his, Lithuania, had told him a sad story, about someone who never had a birthday party, or at least not a proper one, and though it might be late, America was determined to throw him the best party ever. He was writing invitations when Canada stopped by, amazed at the lack of sulking and mess, and soon enough, his brother was sent off to deliver them. It hadn't taken America long to pick a location, or decide who to invite. He knew that Russia didn't get along with all the people he did, so that narrowedthe picks a little, and in the end, America had gone with inviting the allies, the baltics, and Russia's sisters and a few choice others, like India, one of Russia's closest friends. America took the liberty of not inviting some countries he didn't particularly like.

The RSVP's came back quickly, almost all positive. America's party invitations wasn't something easy to decline, both because they were incredibly fun, and because America was incredibly annoying if you declined. Only Latvia denied the invitation, claiming he would be sick that day and unable to come. Estonia had also considered declining, but thanks to Lithuania's efforts, had agreed to "stop by for a short while" sometime during the day. Everything was going well.

It was Belarus and Ukraine who got Russia to the location, with only a little pleading on Ukraine's side and a lot of time on Belarus's side convincing him that this time she was _not _taking him to a chapel to get him to marry her. Russia had known something was wrong immediately, as soon as he entered the dark room hearing the shuffling of nations hidden in the dark, and he readied his metal pipe. It was also Belarus who protected America from getting his face slammed by Russia's metal pipe when the lights suddenly flicked on and America popped out from nowhere shouting "Surprise!" although she looked to instantly regret it.

Russia had froze, eyes narrowed, looking less than pleased, his eyes narrowed and showing a dangerous light reminicenent of the cold war. America pretended not to notice, slapping Russia happily on the back with a rowdy laugh. "Dude! Look happier! It's your birthday party after all!" Russia stared, first registering the words, then the ballons and decorations and food. "My birthday party?" He asked wonderingly, eyes round with shock. "But America, my birthday was last month?"

America frowned. "Yeah, well it might be late but we still wanted to celebrate your birthday." His grinned popped back into place on his face. "After all, it's kinda sad you've never had a birthday before!" Russia beamed, but his eyes told America he still wasn't sure if he was insulted of complemented. "Enjoy it," Advised India, helping himself to some snacks. "We all gathered to celebrate because we're glad you're here, after all." Russia's eyes got rounder, his mouth forming an "O". "You're happy... I'm here?" He turned to America, then Lithuania for confirmation, and both flashed him a smile in response.

Russia brought an arm to his face for a second, in case any tears escaped, then dropped it once he calmed himself. This was when Ukraine brought out the star of the show, the cake. "Look!" She said excitedly, "We made a cake with you on it!" Russia's feelings plummeted at the look of the large empty expanse of white on the cake, punctuated only by a lonely figurine of Russia made out of fondant. It reminded him of his lonely childhood. Ukraine pulled something out of a cooler and placed it on the cake. A mini fondant Ukraine. Belarus followed suit and suddenly it was not just them but everyone, a fondant America making a hero pose, a fondant Estonia with a computer and a fondant Lithuania beside the fondant Belarus. Before Russia could fully register the cake was covered in fondant versions of all Russia's friends and family, even a tiny Latvia added by Estonia for the absentee.

All of a sudden a candle was placed in the cake and shoved under Russia's nose, as America demanded he "Blow it out and make a wish!" Russia hesitated for a moment, taking in the anticipating looks of the other party members, the smiles that everyone wore for once, even France and England weren't bickering at this moment, and then with a single deep breath, blew out the candle.

_I wish next year will be the same again. _

Then America broke out the fireworks, Russia broke out the vodka, and the party began.


	22. Canada is predictable?

"Hey." America greeted, squishing into the small space with Canada. "Move over." Canada obediently scooted over. "How did you find me?" He asked pitifully, rubbing his eyes. America laughed. "Matiie, you've hidden in the same spot whenever you were mad since we were kids. It's would be weirder if I didn't find you!" Canada pouted. "You and Britain never found me back then." He muttered, spitefully.

America gave him a strange look. "England never found you? Why do you think that?" Canada was getting frustrated again. "Well, he always walked right by me, and would always loudly complain how he couldn't find me, then he'd set up his stupid table and have a tea party right... in front..." He trailed off. America was grinning again.

"Oh dear" America mimicked England's posh tone. "Where-ever could Canada be? I simply don't know!" Canada's jaw fell open. "He knew all this time?" he demanded. America rolled his eyes. "No, he just _happened_ to set up his afternoon tea only a few feet away from where you were hiding." He said sarcastically. "It wasn't so he could keep an eye on you and make sure you were okay or anything."

America dragged Canada out of the hole. "Hey, come here for a sec." He pulled Canada over to where England would have his afternoon tea, and pushed Canada into the chair. "Al, what-" Canada started, but stopped as America pointed. "Look!" he said. Canada did, then turned red. The hollow in the bushes where he had thought he was hidden was painfully obvious from the slight hill the table was set up on, and he could instantly tell that anyone hiding there would be completely exposed to someone from this vantage point.

"Why didn't you ever tell me!" He cried pitifully to America. America shrugged half-heartedly. "I thought it was funny." He said off handedly. "You're such a jerk!" Canada snapped, banging his fists weakly on America's chest. America only laughed at the weak blows.

"Not that it matters to me, but shouldn't you make up with England, bro?" America continued, ignoring Canada's feeble blows. "Its just, he looked kinda upset." he gestured the slumped form of England, his face the picture of dejected. America wasn't surprised when Canada took off running down the hill towards him.

"I'm sorry Britain!" Canada burst out, flinging himself into England's arms. "I didn't mean it, I could never hate you!" He buried his head into England's shoulder and cried as England patted his back saying "There now, it's alright I forgive you. I should have paid attention to you."

Eventually England and Canada pulled apart, and Canada stood looking sheepishly at America. "Thanks." he said quietly, pulling America into a quick hug. "If it wasn't for you telling me how upset he was, I would never have come to make up with Britain."

America decided not to mention that he and England had been playing out this exact same scene for Canada ever since he was child whenever he got upset, or that Canada fell for it every time. England winked at him over Canada's shoulder.


	23. Russia and France do ballet?

Russia and France had been. Too close lately, and it was bugging America. His suspicion only grew when France denied it when America confronted him. Did France really think America didn't notice when France would sneakily pass a folded paper to Russia when he passed, or how France seemed to always excuse himself from meetings right after Russia left? Even England had noticed, though he was happy as long as France wasn't bothering him.

America was going to get to the bottom of it. He started with his friend Lithuania, determined to coax the truth out of him. Lithuania gave him a wide-eyed look that told America that he knew exactly what was going on, but Lithuania evaded the question.

"I'm sure it's nothing to worry about, America. You should forget about it."

The awkward way Lithuania spoke, as well as the way he shifted from door to foot as though he'd rather be anywhere else but there betrayed his lie. America narrowed his eyes. If that was how it was going to be, so be it. He cornered Latvia, the smallest and most timid of the baltics, for his interrogation. For a moment, Latvia didn't seem to understand, and America thought maybe he wouldn't know anything, but then a look of understanding dawned on Latvia, and with it, a look of horror.

"I don't know anything!"

Latvia wailed, dissolving into tremors, eyes wide with horror. America pressed harder, but to no avail. Despite all his cajoling, coaxing, bribing and threatening, Latvia remained more fearful of Russia than America. Finally, America gave up in disgust. The only option left was to follow Russia and France and find out what was going on himself.

The next time France slipped from a meeting, America waited for Russia to go too, and followed after, as sneakily as he could. He managed to track them downtown when suddenly he lost sight of them. It didn't take long to locate France again, with his flashy outfit, but Russia was nowhere to be seen. The next thing America knew he was be in ng slammed against the wall and a cold pipe was pressed against his throat.

"Friend America, I wonder why you are spying on me?"

Russia asked pleasantly, excluding an aura that suggested he may like to beat America's head in. That didn't bother America one bit, as he was used to it.

"Nah, dude, I wasn't spying!"

He denied, laughing awkwardly. Russia narrowed his eyes, suspicious, but let America go.

"Good. We do not want another cold war, da?"

America had no choice but to retreat. Canada didn't understand why he had to entertain his sulking brother, but let him in anyways as America ranted.

"And If they're planning the start something, I won't be taken by surprise! The United States of America won't be defeated by anyone! By the way, bro, can I count on you to help me if they attack? You won't help France just cuz you're close, right?"

Canada blinked at the sudden question, completely bamboozled by his brother's words. He understood that it had something to do with Russia and France, and possibly America was expecting a fight, but more than that was beyond him.

"If _who _attacks?"

America rolled his eyes.

"God, do you listen to anything I say? Russia and France, of course!"

"_What?"_

America sighed, and launched into explanation from the beginning once again. By the time he finished, Canada was bother astonished and confused by America's train of thought.

"So because Russia and France are hanging out secretly you think they are planning to start a _war_ against you?"

Canada summarized, flabbergasted. America didn't understand why it was so hard for Canada to understand.

"Duh."

Canada dropped his head to his hands.

"Oh my God, I can't believe you."

He grabbed America's hand and pulled him after him.

"Just come with me."

America didn't know what he had been expecting, probably a lot of guns and bombs and war plans, or the very least, knowing France, some sort of wierd flirting while Russia beat him off with a metal pipe. He had not been expecting to see both Russia and France in skin-tight leggings and t-shirts, both standing on their toes, engaging in something that America knew to be a type of dance, but there was _no way. _

America thought he must be going crazy, or maybe he'd accidentally eaten one of Canada's "special" brownies, because there was no other sensible reason for what he was seeing. France he could understand, but there was _no way_ that _Russia, _cold, scary, intimidating _Russia, _ was standing on his toes, dancing the _ballet. _

"Happy now?"

Canada asked. America's only response was to turn and retch Into the garbage can.

The next time America saw Russia follow France out of the meeting, he shuddered, but pretended he hadn't noticed anything. Sometimes it was better not to know.

_*****This was actually a request, but I took so long to get to it the original comment was deleted. I hope the reader is still on Quotev. If they are: I know this isn't a ballet dance off, but this is the best I could do. ****_


	24. Russia doesn't recognize Canada?

"Who are you?"

Russia didn't know the timid man standing before him, stumbling over his words, and wincing at America's loud voice. It wasn't that Russia didnt know what his name was, or what country, but rather, the man standing in front of him seemed like a could only stare with round eyes as the other country murmurred a string of breathless apologies, eyes not raising further than the newly created coffee stain on Russia's tan jacket.

To be honest, Russia hadn't even heard most of what he said, most of the words were barely whispers, a tone designed to be overlooked, as though he wasn't expecting to be heard to start with. Besides that, Russia didnt understand why the other country was the one apologizing. After all, it was Russia who had banged his elbow on the doorframe upon seeing the familiar country and spilt his own coffe on himself. All the other country had done was stand there. It wasnt his fault that Russia was shocked at the sight of him.

Or maybe it was. Why was he acting so different? Russia was almost certain it was America playing a prank on him. The sudden question finally caused the other country to falter to a halt in his apologies, finally looking Russia in the eye with a half hurt, half exasperated look.

"I'm Canada! "

As if. Russia was no idiot, he knew Canada well enough to know that no mattter how similar this simpering soft-spoken country looked to Canada, there was no way it was the same country that had had broken 3 of his ribs during a game of hockey only last week.

"Nyet." Russia refused to fall for America's prank.

The country claiming to be Canada froze at this, looking more flustered than confused, clearly not expecting this response.

"Um.. But.." He tried, unsuccessfully, to grasp for a response.

"If you're the REAL Canada, then you know i won the game last night perfectly legally."

The Canada before his eyes seemed to transform in a milsecond.

"YOU WON BECAUSE YOU CHEATED! You knocked the net off the mooring!"

Canada was standing tall, fury blazing in his eyes, looming rather like he'd like to rebreak Russia's ribs. Russia lit up.

"It is Canada! I didnt recognize yiu because you were being such a wimp!"

Russia would have like to crush Canada in a hug, but since Canada's arm had only just healed from their fight, he decided not too, instead grinning deviously amd retorting.

"was not cheating, it was an accident!"


	25. The countries go drinking?

In all honesty, it didnt make sense that Canada had won the game. For starters, they were playing poker, and Alfred clearly remembered Canada using Uno cards. America has a sneaking suspicion that it had a great deal to do with the fact Canada was often overlooked, and no one had noticed or cared what cards he put down, simply accepting whatever he claimed. The other, greater part of it was definitely due to all of them being completely hammered, courtesy of Russia, England and Prussia all bringing in endless supllies of alcohol.

The good news was that no one remembered what they were playing for, although America felt like it was something he wanted very bad. Canada, looking just a little bit more out of it than the rest of them -probably in relation to the pot brownies he and Holland would not stop scarfing down - looked just as clueless as the rest of them, floundering to remember the reason.

America was not above taking advantage of this. "Congratulations bro!" He chimed happily, and Canada somehow managed to give him a suspicious glance without ever actually focusing on his face. "You won! That mean's you get to treat us all to lunch tomorrow!" Prussia burst out laughing. "dude, he's not going to fall for that! Who would want to treat everyone to lunch?" America smirked. He knew at least two people who would argue for that right, and the other one, Japan, wasnt here right now. Canada considered it, hazily, and for a moment he looked like he might buy it, but then he choose that moment to remember one of America's jibes from earlier that day.

"Didn't you say my food sucks, and its not as good as yours?"

"Told ya!" Prussia snickered, much louder than necessary.

"Wait, what were we playing for?" Denmark woke up from his half-conscious state to ask the question no-one would admit they didnt know the aswer for.

There was a murmur around the table as each counrty offered what they thought was worth playing for.

"Obviously cash." Holland announced, starting on his fifth brownie, and sliding two more into a Tupperware container that seemed to contain quite a lot of the free party snacks.

"No way! It was beer! Beer!" Prussia argued, wav8ng what he assumed to be an empty bottle, and only succeeding in dousing himself with a wheat-ale bath.

"Nonsense!" England cut in, dissaprovingly, sniffing at their foolishness. "Its scones of course! We were playing to see who get to eat my homemade scones!"

America was certain he would remember if he had gambled his life on this game, amd the other countries instantly shot down England as well.

"I don't know!" Moaned Denmark, laying his head on the table. "didn't it have something to do with booze? Maybe Prussia's right?"

Russia beamed at the group with a smile that sugeested he may have known, but all he said was, "Perhaps we should drink more vodka, da? It will help memory come back?"

Canada declined this invitation by instantly turning and retching into what he thought was a bucket, but was actually Spain's boot. Not that Spain would mind, as Monaco and Romano had dragged him and France away a couple hours earlier.

"Maple." Canada murmured, before retching again, although America couldnt tell if it was his suggestion as to what they were playing for, or just the way a canadian curses. No one else seemed take notice, so America ignored it too.

Prussia seemed to be counting heads, and then stopped, confused. "Are we missing someone? There's only 14 of us.' he blinked. "Or 7 and Im seeing double."

"Frog and Spain went home." England reminded him, and Prussia shook his head.

"No, not them, there should be one more!"

Did you count Canada?" America asked helpfully, and Prussia snorted. "Yeah, of course-" he stopped to quickly count heads once more, then continued with a hiccup "Yeah, of course the awesome me did! There should be one more!"

Canada rejoined the group at the table and downed the glass of "water" Russia offered him shakily. Russia beamed and took a swig from the bottle.

Denmark was fighting to stay awake and barely succeeding. "Le'see, Prussia brought the beer, England brought the whisky and Brandy, Russia brought vodka..."

Russia, upon hearing his name, helpfully supplied Denmark with more vodka.

"Canada and Holland brought the wierd brownies that make you feel wierd," Denmark continued, tucking of his fingers, and Holland looked righteously offended while Canada played innocent.

"America brought all the chips-" he stopped and peered at the empty snack table. "-weren't there chips?" Holland crunched the empty bag of doritoes into a ball and threw it into what he assumed was a trashbag, but was actually Spain's other boot.

"What?" he demanded, licking the cheese from his fingers. Canada guiltily pushed the bag of bbq chips he was hogging under the table and avoided eye contact.

"France brought wine and him and Spain drank it all and went home." Denmark went back to his listing.

"And I brought the life of the party!" He stood up suddenly with this announcement, raising his vodka shot to the sky, then immediately leaned over the back of the couch and vomited.

"So basically, you're useless" England summed it up.

"No wait, he's right!" America announced in a shock. We did forget someone!"

"Who?" asked a voice by his ear. America tried to remember the name.

"That dude who came in with Spain... Uhh.. He brough all those nuts and stuff..." His head was too foggy to remember clearly.

"Brazil?" Brazil suggested helpfully from over America's shoulders.

"That's the dude! How'd you know?"

Brazil didnt bother to respond, stalking around to plop down on the couch between Denmark and Russia.

Russia helpfully poured him some vodka.

"Here's an idea!" America had already moved on from that subject. "Why don't we play another game until we remember why we were playing the first game?" he beamed at the sheer genius of his own idea.

England, ever competitive, perked up. "Good idea!"

"Great!" He reached for the deck of cards. "I'll shuffle!"


	26. France can't be pranked?

Pranking France was not as easy as America had thought it would be. Sure, France fell for the prank easily, but far from being upset about his newly bright pink hair, he'd seemed to have decided he looked good in it, and proceeded to flaunt the dyed hair to everyone until England grew so sick of it he changed it back with magic. It wasnt just America either.

It was easy to rope Australia into his pranks, and when Australia replace all France's expensive suits with casual comfort clothes like torn jeans, oversized t-shirts and hoodies as long as dresses, America was certain he would get to see France's distraught face. Not so. The both Australia and America's disappointment, France seemed to take to the loose clothing, even going so far as to wear the hoodie dress to the movie night.

It was time to get help. It was hockey season for Canada, so America knew better than to bother him and Monaco was much to prim and proper to engage in such activities. Instead, Australia and him cornered Seychelles, and once she understood what was being asked, she smirked mischievously and agreed to help. Her plan was simple. France was well known for and proud of his cooking. All they needed to do was somehow make it taste awful.

For a while it seemed their plan would work. Seychelles had brought Monaco to distract france while the other three added whatever they felt like to France's french onion soup. America dumped in some mustard, Australia some Vegemite, and Seychelles added some pickled fish. They kept going until it was sufficiently disgusting. Finally, it was time to eat, and France settled them down at the table and bustled about with silverware while Monaco brought in the pot of soup. America, Australia and Seychelles threw eachothwr meaningful glances and snickered amongst themselves.

Their delight only lasted till Monaco took a sip of her soup and sighed dreamily. Then France too smacked his lips approvingly and America threw Australia a panicked look. It couldn't be possibly, right? Not after all the stuff they added? Seychelles reached for her spoon timidly, and a moment later confirmed their fears with a soft moan. America quickly reached for his spoon and shoveled a spoonfull into his mouth. Instantly he mepted into a puddle of despair, soon joined by Australia, amd the rest of the meal was finished with a somber awe.

"Hey." Australia finally broke the silence and the dejectedly left France's place and headed home. "Maybe we should just prank England instead Mate."

His suggestion was met with a chorus of half-hearted agreement.

Monaco watched them go theough the window with a self satisfied smirk. "Zhat was worth preparing another pot beforehand." She commented to France, who was tugging the other "modified" pot of Soup out of hiding and placing it next to the good one on the counter. "But what are you going to do with it? There's no way anyone could eat it? " She continued curiously.

France smirked Devilishly in return.

"There's one."

England suddenly felt a huge sense of foreboding as though something twrribke was about to happen.


	27. Hong-Kong host a family dinner?

Hong-Kong had thought a family dinner would be nice.

Clearly, he hadn't been thinking clearly. There were people at the table he hadn't even invited, and he didn't remember telling anyone they could bring a plus one. Yet somehow France was there, already engaged in a fight with England, while a drunk Scotland cheered them on. Somehow Russia had been invited, and though Hong-Kong didnt know who had done so, he did have his suspicions. America was beaming while stirring up strife between Russia and China, though it wasn't clear whether he was doing it intentionally or not.

Usually Canada could be counted on to keep America from causing too much trouble, but Hong-Kong could instantly tell he wouldn't be any help when he finally located the quiet country, trapped under Russia. Hong-Kong couldn't even tell if Australia and New Zealand were fighting or getting along, they were talking way too fast and with too much slang for him to discipher. As they were not strangling eachother or throwing things, he decided to ignore it. His main issue at this point was elsewhere.

France helpfully assisted England in getting some punch, by forceably dunking his head in the bowl, and England returned the favour by shoving a rice-cake down France's throat. When France started choking on it, England decided to save his life by landing a punch directly in France's stomach, causing France to turn and expell the contents of his stomach - as well as the rice-cake stuck in his throat - into one of Hong-Kong's decorative vases. Sealand, in an effort to be noticed and recognized by England, decided to help by kicking France in the shin, then immediately apologizing when France teared up.

Before Hong-Kong could even try to intervene, there was a loud crash as Russia tumbled of his "chair", knocking several dushes off the table as he fell, and Canada stood up and started shouting, shaking with anger. Unfortunately, America's laughter at Russia was louder than Canada's loudest volume, and he went completely unnoticed. Russia decided this was an opportunity to fight with America, and immediately pulled out his metal pipe. China hit him with a wok from behind while scolding about ruing the family dinner.

Macau, Hong-Kong's friend and the only non-family member he had actually invited, put a comforting hand on Hong-Kong's shoulder and shook his head hopelessly. On the other end of the table, it semed to be calmer, but Hong-Kong wasnt fooled. He hadnt invited Japan, although he was apparently one of hisnbrother, simply because he wasnt too close with him. Despite that, there Japan was at the table, sitting nicely and neatly and eating calmly, the picture of a polight country. Or at least, Hong-Kong might have believed that if he couldn't see Japan reading Manga on his phone under the table from where he stood.

In fact, the only countries that didn't seem to be causing a ruckus was Thailand and Tawain, who semed to be having an enthralling discussion about martial arts. India, no doubt invited by England, had put on some of his music, and was dancing in a rather energetic way for one his age, quite joyfully. Ireland, who Hong-Kong suspected had invited himself simply to harass England, immediately took this as a challenge, due to his Irish nature, and put on some Irish music, much louder than India's, and pulled his twin Northern Ireland into a dance with him. Oddly enough, India seemed to take to the challenge, and Hong-Kong tried to pretend he didn't notice this going on.

China made it easier to ignore everything else by using Hong-Kong as a barrier to hide from South Korea. Unfortunately, South Korea had nothing against assaulting Hong-Kong and China at once. Hong-Kong sent Macau a pleading look, but it was too late, he was already caught in a conversation with Vietnam. By the time the day ended, Hong-Kong's house was in tatters, and the country himself didnt feel much better off.

It was at this point Hong-Kong decided that he would never host a family dinner again.


	28. Cuba tries to blackmail America?

Honestly, Canada was a little more than confused.

"Listen, America, if you dont want me to tell you-know who what you did, you'd better do what i ask!"

The country who had cornered Canada demanded confidently. Canada blinked, non-plussed. Was Cuba...blackmailing his brother? He hesitated. Part of him wanted to stop Cuba and tell him he had the wrong country, but another part of him, the kinder part, was telling him it was his duty to protect his sibling. America would do it for him, after all.

Still... He should probably find out what Cuba knew before making a decision. "Tell who about what?" He asked hesitantly.

Cuba bristled. "Dont play dumb with me! You know exactly what im talking about!" Cuba demanded, only a little petulantly.

Canada blinked. He really didn't, America did a lot of stupid stuff and played a lot of pranks. Canada tried to remember his brother's more recent pranks.

"Are you talking about that time I replaced France's body lotion with hair removal cream?"

Cuba froze, looking confused. "Uh, no? You did that?"

Canada frowned in thought. If not that then...

"Or is it that time i put up my fourth of July decorations 2 days early, then when England passed out from shock, i took them all down, and put them up again 2 days later and told him i hadnt seen him since he passed out last year, and scared the maple out of him because he though he was unconscious for a whole year? "

"You did what?" Cuba l9oked somewhat awed, and more than a little confused.

Still wrong then.

"Or is it that time that that Ureplaced Russia's Vodka with reguLar water and he was so cranky all day?"

Cuba turned a little pale. "Wha-"

"That time I put makeup on China while he slept?"

Cuba shook his head, beginning to look a little sick. Canada was gettting concerned. What could America possibly have done that was worse?

"That time I died Russia's second favorite scarf pink?" He offered, then when Cuba only looked more ill, he vont nued "Or maybe that time that I-"

"Stop!" Cuba interupted, looking absolutely nauseated. "Please, no more." He begged. "I wont tell anyone, i swear, I'll never try to black mail you again, just promise you wont do anything to me!"

Canada hesitated, wondering if he should mention that America had replaced all Cuba's cigars with licorice ones just before the meeting, but remembered that Cuba thought he was America right now, and he didnt feel like getting beat up.

"... Fine. " Canada guiltily promised. Technically, he wouldnt be breaking the promise, Canada had no intention to prank Cuba, it wasnt his fault Cuba couldn't tell them apart. Cuba breathed a sigh of relief, shoulder's dropping as he relaxed.

"Dont worry, man, I'll take your secret to the grave!" Cuba promised fervently, turning to leave.

"Wait!" Canada called after him, and he froze.

"Yes?"

"You didnt tell me which one it was!"

Cuba wiped his brow. "oh, it was nothing big, its not that big of a deal, he probably wouldnt care anyways. I was only talking about how you broke Canada's favorite hockey stick and blamed it on Russia is all."

Canada froze, fire running through his viens and turning quickly to ice.

"He. Did. What? "

He remembered confronting Russia about that issue, ending with both of them having a black eye, and Russia sporting a couple broken ribs to match Canada's broken nose.

Cuba took a step back, studying Canada's face, then growing even paler as he seemed to figure it out. Canada was beyond caring. He whipped around, storming for the meeting room door.

"AMERICA!"

...

America was in the middle of presenting an idea to China when the meeting room doors threw open, slamming against the walls, cracking the plaster. Everyone froze and stared at the door in shock, and America paled as he reconized the country there and Canada met his eyes, furiously.

"Oh Shi-"


	29. America steals Russia's vodka?

At the time, it had seemed like a good idea. Russia was getting "a little to big for his britches" as England would say, and his harmless prank was just the thing to take Russia down a few notches. Besides, it would be good for Russia to clear out his system, there's no way drinking all that vodka was healthy. So America stole it away and refilled all Russia's vodka bottles with water.

It had seemed like the obvious solution at the time, but America was beginning to have second thoughts. Then again, his head was hurting too much to have any real thoughts, courtesy of Russia's lead pipe. As the hero, it was only natural to interfere when Russia mistook Canada as the prankster, but America definitely regretted that now. He should have left them to their "fight " as they called it, or "mutual slaughter" as he called it. Maybe then Russia would be too sore to remember he was mad. As it was...

"Amerika~" Russia called in a sing-song voice, which even America could tell was scary.

"Come out so I can crush you~" Russia called, smashing a hole in the wall with his pipe.

"Not likely!" America retorted. He wasnt that stupid! A shadow loomed over him, and he felt the temperature drop even further,chilling him to the bones. He traced the shadow up the a furious Russia, so furious he wasnt even smiling. In retrospect he might be just a _little_ bit dumb.

"Die." Russia chimed, his happy voice in discord to his snarling face.

America dodged the incoming pipe. "Dude, _chill!" _I'm doing you a favour! You're gonna die early if you keep drinking like that! "

America's kindness was not appreciated.

"Not as early as you, comrade."

This time, America didnt dodge quite fast enough, and he soon found himself with a broken leg to match Canada's. America cursed. "That hurt!"

America felt the oncoming blow before he saw it, feeling the whoosh of air as Russia swung, and braced for the impact on instinct, knowing there was no way to avoid it. A moment later the pipe connected full force, shattering... the ground ? Russia _missed_?

"Huh?"

The arm that had pulled back released his arm, and he met his saviour's face in bewilderment.

"Estonia?"

He didnt have time to react to that, a gulping sound drawing his attention back to Russia, where Lithuania was dumping a bottle of vodka down his throat. As America stared, wide-eyed, Russia's malicious aura seemed to settle down.

"Thank goodness Latvia carries a bottle just in case!" Estonia breathed a sigh of relief.

"Vodka is the only thing that keeps Russia from destroying the world." Lithuania added helpfully.

Russia beamed at America, still seething. "Perhaps we can start with America, hmm?"

America was saved by Canada, reappearing using a hockey stick as a makeshift crutch and luring Russia away with promises of Maple Vodka. America heaved a sigh if relief. But froze as he felt the room get colder still. He looked uo to see Lithuania and Estonia glaring at him in a way almost as terrifying as Russia.

"Um guys?"

"Try anything like that again, and we'll personally destroy all your Macdonalds!" They promised in unison, and America shrank as he realized they were serious.

"ok fine!" He whined, and apparently satsified, lithuania stoped glowering and stslked off, Estonia not far behind.

"Geez." America sulked to himself. "Dude cant take a joke."


End file.
